Therein Lies Impossibility, Astrid:Season Two
by Hannibal the Animal
Summary: The impossible, the unbelievable, and the unthinkable happen on a daily basis for Walter Bishop and Astrid Farnsworth. Their views on what they encounter, whether it be Fringe Science or a perfect root beer float, in no particular order. lite!Walstrid
1. Welcome Back

**Chapter Title: **_"Welcome Back"_

**Chapter Genre:** _Humour_

**Chapter Rating:** _PG-13_

**Chapter Notes: **_I've missed you guys, too :)_

**Takes Place: **_Pre-episode 2.01_

**Song: **_"Welcome Back (Kotter)" as sung by Ray Conniff and His Singers_

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Fringe, just bad plot bunnies_

* * *

"_Welcome back,  to that same old place that you laughed about, _

_Well the names have all changed since you hung around, _

_But those dreams have remained and they're turned around, _

_Who'd have thought they'd lead ya,_

_Back here where we need ya,"_

* * *

Astrid yawned, scratching at the mosquito bite on the back of her neck as she knocked on the Bishop's hotel room door. Walter had called her cell phone and had begged her to 'please hurry over!' before hanging up. Now she was standing and waiting to be let in to help in whatever crisis there was.

This was beginning to become a regular thing, stopping at the Bishop's before work. Occasionally something would catch on fire or there'd be an argument and once there had been a mess of wasps that had found their way into the room's closet and apparently the hotel manager was refusing to answer their room's calls. Astrid yawned again, raising her hand again to rap her knuckles on the door when it opened to reveal Peter looking just as tired as she felt, wearing trousers but holding a very wrinkled up button up in his hand.

"Walter called and told me to hurry over," she explained and from the look on Peter's face, she could see that Walter had gotten a hold of the cell phone without permission again. "There's no emergency, is there?"

"No." He stood aside and gave her a dry smile. "Please, come in."

It appeared that she had caught Peter in the middle of ironing, a task that he was performing on the hotel room's low coffee table.

"You should lay a towel under your shirt when you iron it," she pointed out.

He shot a look at her as he went back to getting the wrinkles out. "Thank you, Martha Stewart."

She put her hands on her hips, fighting back a smile and failing. "No need for attitude, Peter. No one likes a Sassy Sally."

He smirked. "What exactly did Walter call you here for?"

"He said it was Thursday and I needed to come over quick." At the moment Walter appeared in bathrobe and pyjamas. "Morning, Dr Bishop."

"I have to change into my clothes, but I've packed you both a lunch!" he sang, ushering them over to the small kitchenette where two brown paper lunch sacks sat waiting.

Astrid assumed hers was the one labeled 'A' with an assorted scribble afterwards, which she presumed was Walter's way of writing out her name without actually knowing it. Both opened their bags and began to scrutinize the contents.

"Crayons, marshmallows, a napkin and a sandwich." She inspected the sandwich in the plastic bag and realised that looks were deceiving. "Nope, it's not a sandwich, just two pieces of bread."

"Mine is a slice of American cheese, a fruit pie, some rubber bands on a paperclip, a dried macaroni noodle, and… I have no idea what this is." Peter lifted a small grey furry object out gingerly.

Astrid made a face. "It looks like lint."

"Ew." He glanced at her marshmallows hopefully. "I'll trade you."

"No way." She hid the paper sack behind her and leaned back against the kitchenette counter. "So, he seems pretty excited about us getting to work today."

Peter gave an exasperated sigh. "I have no idea why. All he could talk about last night was that today is 'Thursday', 'Thursday', 'Thursday'. I was like, 'Yeah, Walter. I know'."

The elder Bishop returned to the room with a small plastic comb, raised up slightly as he approached the two of them. "Let me comb your hair, Peter. The ladies may like your 'just-fallen-out-of-bed' look, but it makes you look like a hoodlum—"

Peter raised his eyebrows in warning. "Stop it,"

Walter turned to her looking hopeful. "Miss?"

Unconsciously her hand went up to touch her recently shortened curls. "I've already done my hair, Walter."

He passed the small comb to her. "Oh, I was hoping you might do mine."

"Of course," she said with a smile.

He hurried her over to the sofa (where it appeared Peter slept) and after wadding up the sheets, blankets, and pillow onto the opposite side, he sat down at an angle so she could stand behind him.

"Peter, please let this young lady brush your hair. It looks like a mess!" Walter insisted.

"Walter!" Peter barked in a warning tone and the older Bishop gave a defeated sigh.

"Should I wear a tie? I know I usually don't wear one, but I do want to look nice," Dr Bishop pondered aloud as Astrid carefully worked at detangling his soft curls.

"Walter, you eat the gum stuck under the stair railings at Harvard. What the hell do you care if you look nice?" Peter asked, putting his freshly pressed shirt on.

"I usually don't, but today's _Thursday_." Walter crumpled his tie into a ball and tossed it back towards his bed. "No tie. It will look out of place."

Peter gave her a smile. "Don't mind him, he's crazy."

Walter suddenly jumped up from the couch, heading over to the front door. "Hurry, hurry, we need to pick up Agent Dunham—"

"She has her own car, Walter," Peter said, rolling his eyes.

He glanced over to her then did a double take. "What are you doing here?"

"My car is back in the shop and I'm going to carpool with you to work." Astrid shrugged.

Walter turned to his son. "Have you brushed your teeth?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Yes."

"And cleaned under your fingernails?"

"Yes," Peter replied, sounding much like a teenager who was being nagged at.

"Let me check your hands," Walter said, attempting to take his son's hands in his.

Peter slapped at his father's hands. "Walter, knock it off!"

"He's so mean to me!" Walter whimpered.

"You're annoying," Peter insisted.

"You need to brush your damn hair!" the older man snapped.

Astrid planted her hands firmly on her hips. "Enough, boys. If we're all ready, then let's go to work."

"Fine," Peter grumbled.

"Okay," Walter mumbled.

Out the door and in the Vista Cruiser they began the morning commute to Harvard. It was a car ride like any other—traffic, Peter yawning, the occasional idiot on the cell phone trying to merge into them. Finally behind a few cars at a red light, Astrid pointed to the McDonald's drive through to their right and Peter nodded, starting to pull out of the traffic line.

"My dear, are you sure my hair looks fine? And that my clothes are nice enough? I don't want to look like a mess…" Walter mumbled, examining himself in the sunblind's mirror.

Astrid leaned over the front seat and smiled at the older man warmly. "Walter, you're being so cute today! All dressed and ready for the day. Want some McDonald's for breakfast?"

"Peter, why aren't you this nice to me?" Walter turned back to her and gave her a sweet smile. "I would love to have breakfast with you, my dear. Would you like to share a hash brown? They're greasy."

Peter made a disgruntled face as he pulled into the drive through.

"Are you trying to put the moves on her? Walter…" Peter then gave her a stern look in the rear-view mirror. "And you! Don't encourage him." While she giggled, Peter turned his attention to the drive through speaker. "Hi, I'd like three number fours, one with no cheese."

A crackly and bored teenage voice asked in a flat tone, "Coffee with all the meals?"

"Yes."

"And an extra orange juice," Walter whispered.

"And an extra orange juice," Peter added.

"And a breakfast for Agent Dunham," Walter whispered again.

"Walter…" Peter gave him a tired look then turned back to the speaker. "And another number four, with coffee."

"I don't think Olivia eats fast food," Astrid pointed out, still leaning across the front seat.

"Please pull up to the window," the cashier instructed.

Peter looked at her skeptically. "I've seen the crap Olivia eats when she thinks she's alone in her office and I doubt she'll turn her nose at a little McDonalds."

Astrid paid for breakfast and the trio ate on the drive over, Walter completely silent as he ate his food. Once at the lab he proceeded to wash his hands and face, fussing about his hair again. Astrid wasn't sure what was prompting his odd behaviour and decided to ignore his harmless antics, busying herself with a few case files about crop circles.

"Hello, my beautiful Gene! It's Thursday, you know!" Walter planted a big kiss on Gene's nose and then called out, "Agent Farnsworth, do we have a bow for her? Gussy her up a bit?"

Astrid continued looking over the files. "In the drawer with your craftpaper."

"Ah, thank you!" There was the sound of an opening rdawer and shuffling of things around before Astrid looked up from her paper to see the scientist attaching a bright blue ribbon onto the cow's halter. "Here you are, my girl. So pretty."

"Walter, she's a cow. Get control of yourself," Peter grumbled as he began piecing together parts of a motherboard.

Dr Bishop returned to the drawer filled with paper supplies and held up an orange ribbon. "Would you like a bow, young lady?"

Astrid giggled as Peter gave a reprimanding, "_Walter_."

"Agent Dunham!" Walter sang out at the blonde walked in the door. "Good morning! Are you excited it's Thursday?"

Olivia gave him a funny look. "I think you're thinking of Friday, Walter. You know, 'TGIF'?"

Walter stood chewing the inside of his cheek, looking immensely puzzled as Peter pointed to one of the work tables where the lone paper bag of McDonald's sat next to the cup of coffee.

"We brought you breakfast."

"Oh wow." Olivia accepted the food. "I hate McDonalds." And with that being said, she pulled the McMuffin out, unwrapped it, and took a big bite. They stared at her until she answered, covering her half full mouth. "Well, I'm not going to pass up free food. Rachel's been eating all my cereal."

"Family members have a tendency to eat all the food," Walter observed sadly as he made an attempt to steal the hash brown from Olivia's breakfast.

"Too true," Olivia lamented as she jerked the McDonald's bag out of his reach.

Walter sighed and began to rummage in the musty cardboard box filled with his toys. He dug out a plastic army man that had a plastic parachute on it and began to sing loudly.

"If you like pina coladas! And getting caught in the rain! Something about yoga and something else that rhymes!"

"Walter, stop butchering that song," Peter ordered as he began soldering wires together, the hint of hot metal filling Astrid's nostrils.

Walter continued as if he hadn't heard. "If you like pina coladas! And getting caught in the rain! Making love by the ocean and getting trashed on champagne! Something, something, something… and something champagne! Oops!"

At this, Astrid looked up and asked gravely, "What's 'oops'?"

"Um, nothing. Nothing." Walter suddenly became quite hysterical. "I think he's going to drown!"

The three decidedly sane people ran over to see what he was talking about and looking down into one the lab's floor drain, they sighted the army man Walter had been playing with in the small pool of water collected from putting out a fire yesterday. Astrid burst out into laughter while Olivia chuckled over her McMuffin and Peter threw up his hands in exasperation.

"Walter, stop dropping crap down there!" He dropped to his knees and tried prying the drain cover off, but to no luck. "Astrid, get me one of those wire hangers in the storage room so I can fish Walter's army man out—is that my compass down there?!"

Peter began mumbling expletives and Astrid sighed, moving in the direction of the storage room before Walter grabbed her by the arm. He was grinning ear to ear.

"I _love_ Thursdays."


	2. Don’t Get Me Wrong

**Chapter Title: **_"Don't Get Me Wrong"_

**Chapter Genre:** _Humour, Flirting_

**Chapter Rating:** _PG_

**Chapter Notes: **_Just getting back into the swing of things_

**Takes Place: **_Pre-episode 2.01_

**Song: **_"Don't Get Me Wrong" as sung by The Pretenders_

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Fringe, just bad plot bunnies_

* * *

"_Don't get me wrong_

_If I'm acting so distracted_

_I'm thinking about the fireworks_

_That go off when you smile"_

* * *

The usual routine of the lab may have looked strange to outsiders, but dissecting, autopsies, and looking at gross things had become so normal to Astrid that when she finished cutting off the liver node samples, heating them in the microwave, and labeling them individually before putting them in the deep freezer, she hardly gave it a second thought. As she peeled off her latex gloves and threw them away in the hazardous material bin, she called out to Peter.

"Do you think you could add 'EP Blue Gloves, size small' to our list of things we need to order? I'm nearly out."

"No problem."

Walter was scrubbing his hands off under the faucet and looked over at her. "A funny thing happened to me the other day when Peter and I went to the laundry mat."

Standing next to him, she ran her hands under the water to wash off the uncomfortably feeling of the gloves' powder. "Oh, yeah?"

"Don't you dare tell her that joke, Walter," Peter called out in warning.

Walter pouted. "But it's funny."

"No, it's _not_. It's disgusting."

Astrid looked at Peter. "What's it about?"

He shook his head. "It involves frogs, peanut butter, and a gorilla."

Astrid grimaced. "That's not a combination that sounds like it ends well."

"It doesn't."

Walter sighed, trying to squirt more soap on her hands before drying his fingers on his pant legs. The door to the laboratory opened and in came Olivia carry two large paper bags.

"Lunch, everyone," she announced loudly, rustling the paper bags as she presented them with their food.

The group gathered around the clear table they usually ate at, each waiting for Olivia to hand over their food.

"Your ham and roasted pineapple sandwich, Peter. My turkey sandwich, Walter's chili cheese fries with extra cheese, and Astrid's tuna salad sandwich." Olivia then pulled out additional small containers. "And macaroni salad for everyone except Walter. I got him goldfish crackers and apple sauce because his lunch looks like it has enough cholesterol to give us all heart attacks."

Walter happy began munching on the little baggie of goldfish crackers. "That's the only way to enjoy it."

Astrid snatched the flimsy foam container the fries were in from the scientist, taking them over to one of the wall mounted cabinets where their paper plates and plastic utensils resided. "Let me get you a plate and a napkin. You're going to make a mess."

Walter followed behind her, upset. "You're not my wet nurse! I'll make a mess if I damn well please! It's my lab!"

She handed the plate over to him with a patient smile. "There you go."

Food was quick to consol him and he hungrily began eating the fries two at a time as they walked back to the cleared off table. He sat down to her left and began to scarf the fatty food down.

Peter gave her an innocent look worthy of an Oscar. "You aren't going to do my plate?"

Astrid patted his hand and said very kindly, "You're a big boy now. I think I'm going to let you do it all by yourself."

Peter still held his plate out to her. "Are you sure, Mom?"

Astrid shoved his shoulder as she tried to take a large bite of her tuna sandwich. "Peter, get out of my face. I'm trying to eat."

The younger Bishop seemed satisfied that he'd managed to pester her and sat down to her right, unwrapping his sandwich and taking a large bite from it. He made a noise of contentment.

"You were right, Liv. They do make good sandwiches."

Olivia looked fairly smug. "Told you."

"Your sandwich smells good," Walter observed and then reached out, attempting to play with one of her spiral locks. "Your hair is exceptionally curly today."

"Walter, don't touch my hair. Your hands are all greasy," she said, batting him away.

Peter made a face as he watched them. "Walter, leave her alone. You're being _gross_."

Dr Bishop planted his elbow firmly on the table and leaned his head against his hand while giving her sad eyes. "_You_ love my antics, don't you?"

She bit back a smile and pointed out, "Your elbow is in my macaroni salad."

"Oops!" He jerked back, his cheeks turning slightly pink before he offered up his elbow to her. "Want some?"

"No thanks," she said, unable to keep her lips from turning up, a smile which he shared with her as he began cleaning his shirt off.

"So tell me Walter, do you always flirt with your lab assistants?" Olivia teased.

Walter puffed out his chest slightly. "I can't help that I'm a very charming man, Agent Dunham. You should know this as my Peter has many of the same traits as I."

"Walter, I have twice as much game as you," Peter scoffed.

Walter waved one of his chili fries dramatically. "Don't flatter yourself, Peter. I invented 'the moves'."

Peter smirked. "You snorted milk out your noise last night. You don't have 'moves'."

"It's a scientific fact that women prefer to hear themselves complimented over hearing a man being insulted. Observe, science at work." Walter turned to the blonde FBI agent and gave her a very coy smile. "Agent Dunham, that shirt is the most beautiful _azul_. It brings out the colour of your eyes in the most amazing way."

At this, Olivia's eyes became large and her cheeks flushed.

"I'm going to go eat in my office," she mumbled, picking up her food and hurrying away from them, Peter at her heels.

Once the office door was shut, Astrid still fighting back her smile. "Smooth Walter,"

Walter took the other half of her sandwich and took a bite of it, pushing his plate of chilli fries towards her. "Oh hush, my dear. I know you like being alone with me."


	3. There Are More Things in Heaven & Earth

**Chapter Title: **_There Are More Things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio_

**Chapter Genre:** _General_

**Chapter Rating:** _PG-13_

**Chapter Notes:**_ Astrid gets Peter just what Walter said he'd want for his birthday._

**Takes Place: **_At the end of 2.01_

**Quote: **_Hamlet Act 1, scene 5, 159-167_

**Song: **_"The Hanged Man" as performed by Gregor Theelen_

**Disclaimer:**

* * *

_**Horatio:**__ O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!_

_**Hamlet:**__ And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. _

_There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, _

_Than are dreamt of in your philosophy._

* * *

Astrid smiled as Peter blew out the candles on her tray of small pastry cups filled with the custard she'd made yesterday.

"Yay!" Walter cheered happily, clapping his hands enthusiastically while she led them to the usual desk they dined at, though he drifted back to Gene to fix her party hat.

"Hold on just a second." Astrid hurried over to her purse, which she'd hidden under her desk, rummaging through it until she found the small plastic bag that held the small wrapped gift she'd bought for him two days before. She hurried over and handed it to him, barely able to contain her glee. "Happy birthday."

His eyes widened. "You got me a present?"

She laughed. "Of course! You dad has been talking about your birthday for almost a week!"

The younger Bishop snorted. "Funny, he's been talking about it for only a day with me."

"He could never forget your birthday, Peter," she said gently.

He held the present up to his ear and shook it slightly. "Feels solid."

"Come on! Open it!" she exclaimed.

He tore into the wrapping paper and then announced, "Tarot cards."

"He said you'd been asking for a set." She bit her bottom lip as she saw the baffled look on his face. "You don't like them," she stated, feeling heartbroken.

Peter didn't answer her, instead calling out to his father in Gene's stall. "Walter, did you tell Astrid I wanted tarot cards?"

The scientist gave a relieved sigh, leaving the cow to come back to them. "Oh good, you got him a set."

"Peter, if you want something else, I can get you a different present," Astrid mumbled.

"I want to know why he thought I wanted tarot cards."

Walter snatched the deck out of Peter's hands and led them over to another desk, pushing aside papers to clear a space.

"Now son, I want you to open this deck, split it, and then pick a card."

"This sounds like one of the tests Jones was giving Olivia," Astrid joked, then swatted at Dr Bishop's hands. "Don't touch! I see you have custard all over your fingers."

Peter did as he was told and held up the card he selected. "The Hanged Man. Happy?"

"Interesting, interesting. Now select another," Walter ordered.

"The Lovers. And before you ask, Walter, I'll do a seven card spread," Peter said, sounding irritated.

Astrid looked at Peter in surprise. "You know how to use tarot cards?"

He rolled his eyes. "Of course. I was a bored teenager once too, you know."

"Close your eyes and concentrate," Walter instructed firmly and to Astrid's surprise, Peter obeyed, retrieving the next six cards and placing them on the table top, face side down. "What do the cards say?"

Peter opened his eyes and he lifted the first card he'd placed down.

"The Hanged Man is based off Odin, who hung from the World Tree for nine days to earn the knowledge of the Runes. He symbolizes that you cannot be enlightened by searching for lessons in the physical world, that you have to search within."

"Very good," Walter mumbled and Astrid raised an eyebrow, though she didn't say anything.

Peter pointed to the farthest left card on the second row he'd created. " 'Lovers' has many meanings. I think the best is the symbolism of the man looking at the woman who is looking at the angel. It shows that the conscious mind—the man—cannot directly access higher powers—the angel—without using the unconscious—the woman—as a bridge between the physical and spiritual planes, as we know love does."

"Wow. That's beautiful, Peter," she said, studying the picture and thinking about his analysis.

Peter smirked. "Keep your panties on, Astrid. I'm not done."

He turned on the next card and held it up for them to see. "The King of Cups is a strangely ambivalent figure. This is often seen as a card of contradictions. He represents someone who is calm on the surface, yet passionate and volatile underneath. He shows a situation that is not entirely what is appears to be at first glance. Under his facetious exterior he hides ulterior motives. In fact, the King of Cups is almost always hiding something. He enjoys the quiet power he holds over others, and his personal agenda is as well-crafted as his speeches. He is a seducer who thrives on the company of women, and he is often selfish and unfaithful. Though he does have an air of innocence to him, his character is often not deep enough to reach it. All of this comes about as a direct result of the battle between his fiery soul and his watery heart. The two opposing influences pull him in totally different directions, and often he does not know which to follow. As you might expect of such a combination, he is insecure and indecisive, often letting others act for him."

At this Peter gave a cold look to his father and Astrid shifted uncomfortably. Obviously he put a lot of stock into these cards and saw this one as Walter. But Peter kept his mouth shut on his feelings and he continued on with the next card.

"The Queen of Swords is a card in which the masculine and the feminine are at conflict. She never shows her emotional side, but her judgments can sometimes be swayed by her heart, and because of these conflicts she is neither a good confidante nor a fair judge. The Greek myth of Atalanta is a good example. Atalanta was a woman who lived to the standards of men, and who would not accept the love of any man except one would could defeat her in battle. When someone did beat her, their love was squandered and destroyed.

"The Queen of Swords can see straight to the heart of any situation, past the illusions that may entice others into seeing what isn't really there. She always sees both sides of every argument and those who try to deceive her are in for a big surprise - thieves and con artists will quickly taste her cold steel.

"The negative side of the Queen of Swords stems in part from her honesty and desire for the truth. Once she has a view of the situation she lets everyone involved know her opinion. Her mind is as sharp as a razor. This type of person often has very few friends, and they are often depressed and unsatisfied with themselves because they cannot live up to their own high standards. The Queen of Swords often uses her dry and vicious humor to keep others from seeing her bitterness and her dissatisfaction. Her stoicism and her 'stiff upper lip' are a sign that she considers painful experiences to be learning experiences. She learns a little from everything she does and from everyone she meets, and everyone who talks with her goes away a little wiser."

"That sounds exactly like Olivia," Astrid said with a laugh.

Peter's lips quirked into the slightest of smiles, hinting that he agreed as well. She didn't miss his fingers caressing the edge of the card before moving to the final card in the row.

"This is an interesting one. The Page of Swords has the mental outlook and philosophy of a child, and he is constantly fascinated with matters of the mind. It doesn't mean he's childish and immature, but the most mature and mentally developed of the four Pages. He may not realize his full power at the moment, but he knows how to use what he has discovered to the best of his ability.

"As an event, the Page of Swords deals with insight and perception, and use of one's inherent mental powers. He is the ideal emissary or ambassador since he seizes and exploits all opportunities that arise. He quickly adapts to changing circumstances and is gifted with eloquent speech. Unlike some of the 'older' Swords court cards, the Page always expresses his true feelings, though he is always able to camouflage his true intent if he wants to. When he decides to throw away diplomacy and call things like he sees them, prepare for a serious reality check." Peter's brow furrowed. "The Page of Swords can mean a spy though, someone who is gathering information or doing research. It can be negative."

Astrid felt chills run down her spine. "That's a little spooky."

"Um, this one means there's some sort of disturbance in the force!" Walter announced at the card Peter turned over and Peter gave him an amused look.

"The Tower means 'change' and not the good kind. Illusions to be broken, there's going to be a spiritual wake-up call…the tower represents that anything that seems secure could not really be safe at all. If a change is destined to happen, to not try to fight it, because all change happens because it is needed. It is the card of death and rebirth."

Walter's hand found hers and she held it tight. None of that sounds pleasant.

Peter turned over the final card. "And lastly the Devil. One card I always take at face value."

"The shapeshifter," Astrid murmured.

"Indeed," Walter agreed.

Peter's knees wobbled slightly and he had to support himself with the table. "I need to sit down. I feel so tired."

Astrid let go of Walter's hand to quickly retrieve a chair for Peter, who looked pallid and weak. "You've been running around all day."

"Yeah, that must be it," he admitted as she and Walter wheeled the office chair back to the desk their custard waited on.

Once Peter began eating, she grabbed Walter by the upper arm and dragged him to a corner of the lab.

"Walter!" she hissed. "Peter didn't ask for tarot cards!"

"Does it really matter?" His eyes looked past her to gaze at his son. "He knows them quite well. We used to play with his grandmother's set when he was child to test him."

She narrowed her eyes slightly. "Test him for what?"

"To see if he had the gift," he mumbled dreamily.

She let go of his arm, suddenly very wary of what he was talking about, and watched him drift back off to sit with his son and make a mess of the birthday dessert.

* * *

Astrid sat in bed with her notebook beside her and her laptop balanced on her thighs, copying down her observations from Peter's tarot reading. Little did she know that halfway across town another junior agent was typing on her own computer, though her research involved the Bible as opposed to divination.

She wasn't sure she believed in tarot cards, but Walter had insisted she buy them for Peter and both Peter and Walter had played with them when they were still a family…and Walter said he thought Peter had a _'gift'_. Her arms prickled slightly as a cold chill ran down her spine and she continued typing.

The final three cards made her extremely uncomfortable. A spy, a major change, and the devil? A year ago she would hardly have given thought to anything something like tarot cards that while fun, weren't something she took seriously, but after learning that Olivia had diffused a bomb with her mind, that a small boy had lived deep underground for at least 70 years without aging, that a man had killed people with his own self generated electricity, she had to give these cards some consideration.

_The Hanged Man should be searching for something within himself instead of in the physical world. Perhaps Peter?_

_The Lovers are trying to bridge the gap between the physical and spiritual. Accessing the inner eye, the unconscious mind._

_The King of Cups IS Walter._ She paused for a moment and then added, _Be careful. The King of Cups has ulterior motives._

_The Queen of Swords is Olivia. _

_The Page of Swords while isn't usually used in a sinister manner, it can mean 'spy' and with the current turn of events, it's not so hard to believe. Perhaps referencing the Shapeshifter._

_The Tower represents destiny and change, upheaval. Something is coming. Something isn't safe._

_The Devil. Perhaps the Shapeshifter. Research later. _

Astrid sighed, shutting her tired eyes. She was craving more of that custard (she was definitely going to have to get the recipe from Walter) and she was also a little afraid of sleeping alone. That had become a growing paranoia of hers, which was a bother. She put her laptop away, turned on her television, lowering the volume, turned off the bedroom lights and tried to fall asleep to the murmuring sound of an infomercial.


	4. Chopsticks

**Chapter Title:**_ "Chopsticks"_

**Chapter Genre:** _Humour_

**Chapter Rating:** _PG-13_

**Chapter Notes: **_For my favourite EMTs who shamelessly wanted another cameo! Wish granted!!! ;D_

**Takes Place:**_ After 2.01_

**Quote: **_Animal Crossing: Wild World_

**Song:**_ "Chopsticks" as performed by Liberace_

**Other:**_ '__pâtisserie' is a French store specialising sweets, like a cake shop_

**Disclaimer:** _Only the bad ideas are mine_

* * *

"_I don't want to live in a world where I have to eat sugar-free sugar cookies."_

* * *

Walter was humming around his lab, contemplating what his favourite colour of rabbit was when Peter walked in, smiling.

"Okay, Walter. You've been very good for the past couple of days so I've arranged something for you that you might like. Astrid is welcome to come along if she'd like to get out of this musty lab."

"You got the bounce house didn't you!" Walter shouted happily then turned to his assistant. "You can come jump in it with me, if you want. But you'll have to take off your shoes—"

Peter shook his head. "No, Walter. Not a bounce house. Better."

He looked at his son suspiciously. "Better than a bounce house."

"Trust me. Come on, grab your coat."

Asper helped him into his coat and he smiled at her. "Thank you, Agent Farnsworth.

She nodded and they followed Peter outside to the parking lot. At the parking lot, there was a cluster of people looking like they might be tailgating, reclining in lawn chairs and roasting hamburgers on a small grill. Walter suddenly craved a cheeseburger of his own and couldn't help breathing the smell of hot grease and charcoal in deeper as they approached them.

"Hey Peter!" a redheaded girl with curly hair called out and Peter waved.

Before Walter could ask who she was, he saw something that left him stopped in his tracks. He knew it was for him in all of its glossy white and red glory, parked there waiting for him. He blinked back tears of joy as he looked at his child.

"You…you got me my own ambulance?"

Peter shook his head. "No. But I have rented it for an hour from a few of my friends."

Walter realise these hooligans in the parking lot were the medics that sold his son things and gave them an enthusiastic wave as well.

"Easter! We spent Easter with these people, Peter!" Walter exclaimed happily.

His son smiled at him. "I know."

Walter turned to his curly haired assistant, feeling inspired. "Agent Farnsworth, go back to the lab and get that corpse we just closed back up! We can toss him back here and pretend we're trying to save him!"

Peter grabbed Astrid's arm before she could retrieve the request. "Walter, no!"

The redhead gave him a smile. "We have a Resusci Anne you can borrow."

Walter began to climb into the back of the ambulance. "Come on, Peter. Let's play!"

* * *

"Clear! Two ccs of something! Stat!" Dr Walter instructed to Paramedic Peter, who was sitting a little too relaxed on the edge of the stretcher where their patient Resusci Anne lay unresponsive.

Paramedic Peter casually handed over an empty syringe that lacked a needle. "Here."

Dr Walter pretended to jab the syringe into the fake woman's chest. "And now for a jejunostomy! And a trache! We need to trache! Trache! Sikimitoxin! Whipple procedure! Malleolus! Impotency!"

Paramedic Peter was a terrible assistant. "Walter, the medical scenario you've made makes no sense. Not only that, it just sounds like you're spouting off random medical jargon."

"You thought you hid the remote last night but I found it and watched House while you were showering!" Dr Walter retorted in a snotty tone.

Peter hopped off the edge of the stretcher, glaring at him. "I'm not playing if you're just going to yell out crap."

Peter no longer playing, Walter leaned out the back doors and spotted his trusty sidekick. "Agent Farnsworth? Would you care to keep me company?"

"I'd love to," she said with a smile, taking a last bite of her hamburger before setting her paper plate down and accepting his hand as he helped her into the back of the ambulance.

They moved to the front cab and sat down, he in the driver seat and she to his right. Out of her handbag she produced a thermos and into the lid that doubled as a cup, she poured him something dark and sweet smelling.

"Ooh, thank you." He took a deep drink of the warm cocoa. "I love hot chocolate."

"Me, too."

He quickly swallowed the last of the drink and buckled himself in. "Want to pretend we're ambulance drivers?"

She grinned. "Sure."

* * *

"Whee!" Walter jerked the steering wheel around wildly before shouting, "Careful, Aspirin! Kraken on the starboard!"

His assistant pointed her fingers like guns at the imaginary kraken and cried, "Bang! Bang!"

"Very good, my dear! I see why you're an FBI agent," he complimented.

"Only a junior agent," she corrected.

"Really? They haven't promoted you yet—Quick! Penguins! Shoot them so I can take them back to the lab and experiment on them!" he yelled, pointing to their right.

Agent Farnsworth hesitated. "What? You can't shoot penguins."

He sighed. "My dear, it's only pretend."

His assistant made a face. "I'm not shooting penguins, pretend or not."

"Well, they got away, anyway. You know what would be perfect? Is if we had hotdogs right now." Walter unbuckled his seatbelt and crawled halfway out the driver's window to look at his son. "Peter! Can we have hotdogs?"

"I don't want one," Ostrich called out.

Peter, who was drinking a bottle of root beer, pursed his lips. "You're not getting hotdogs."

"Crap." Walter sat back down and turned to his assistant. "We should start our own pâtisserie, my dear. You're very good at mixing things. I noticed that with the custard."

"Thank you. It's a good recipe." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "What would you call the pâtisserie?"

"Oh, I don't know. Something clever." He ran his hands across the smooth surface of the steering wheel and then declared. "We could make each other unbirthday cakes everyday! And make lemon tarts and serve gelato!"

"I don't have that big a sweet tooth," she confided.

Walter raised an eyebrow as he began playing with the steering wheel again. "I've seen you sneaking candy out of the Drawer in Agent Dunham's office."

"Do you know how much energy I burn running around the lab, doing your bidding? I need that sugar."

"Liar," he grumbled.

"I'm not going to take sass from you, Walter."

"Fine."

Before they could continue with their attitudes towards one another, someone appeared at Astringent's door window, startling them both. It appeared to be one of the campus security guards and he looked at them suspiciously.

"Is everything all right here?"

His assistant flashed her badge quickly and gave a very authoritative, "Astrid Farnsworth, FBI. We're conducting business here."

He looked into cab curiously. "Anything I should know about?"

"No. Carry on."

The security guard looked a little disappointed as he left and once Walter was sure the man was out of hearing range, he playfully pushed her shoulder. "Ooh, you naughty girl! You purposely left out the fact you were a junior agent."

She gave him a coy smile. "I didn't want him to ask for the agent in charge."

Walter realised his hour was probably over and climbed out the driver door window to go over to Peter and the paramedics who'd allowed him to have fun. Walter hadn't really been there for his son's childhood and he knew that right now was an opportunity to meet Peter's friends to start a new part of their relationship.

He approached the paramedics slowly and cleared his throat.

"We have a body down in the laboratory. It's very gross," he offered shyly.

Peter rolled his eyes. "What he wants to know is if you guys want to come down and see it."

The redheaded girl pouted her lips slightly as she asked, "How gross?"

"_Really_ gross," Walter assured. "And we have chocolate pudding for dessert."

The paramedics looked at one another and shrugged before the lanky one nodded. "Okay."

* * *

Surrounded by interested young paramedics, an unhappy son, and a curly haired assistant, Walter dramatically pulled the white sheet covering the dead body on the gurney, poking at the corpse's cool side. "I've named him Arnold."

The redheaded girl leaned in to look closer. "What happened to him?"

"Life," he said with a sad sigh. "Life is what gets us all in the end."

"The guy had his neck broken," Peter clarified.

"Oh! The pudding!" Walter hurried over to the medical refrigerator and pulled out a tray of specimen cup, grabbing a handful of black plastic spoons he keep on the nearby counter for all of his food cravings. He presented the tray of pudding to the medics, who accepted the dessert happily. "Here you are."

Peter, however, hesitated when he saw what they were being served in. "Walter, I'm going to get sick. Couldn't you have put it in mugs or something?"

"Peter, you're being a big baby," Astringent teased as she started eating her pudding.

Walter pulled another cup out and handed it over to his son, who gagged. "What is this?"

"Leftover custard!" Walter quickly explained its unusual hue. "Oh, I put little chocolate flecks and some cinnamon in it. It's very tasty."

Peter shuddered and Walter took a fresh spoon, scooping a small bite of pudding on the end, offering it up to his son. "Open up for the airplane!"

Peter pushed the spoon away gruffly and the medics laughed, making Walter blush slightly as he pulled away the spoon.

"Ah, yes. I'm not trying to embarrass you in front of your new friends."

His son began grumbling and stomped off towards the bathroom, making Walter incredibly nervous. "Stay out of the bathroom! I'm trying to ferment my prison wine in the urinal! I'm aiming for 14% alcohol!"

His assistant made a face. "You cleaned it out first, right?"

"Of course," Walter snorted.

Peter threw his hands up in the air. "Why are you making prison wine?"

"It's called 'pruno', Peter," Aspirin informed him.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Who would have guessed your inner children were juvenile delinquents."

"I made Kilju in college," his assistant admitted and he shared a mischievous smile with her.

"I'm sorry this is turning into a freak show," Peter groaned, turning to the amused medics who were finished with their pudding. "Please excuse my father. And Astrid."

The tall one shrugged. "We've made Arnold Palmers in a urinal before. This isn't weird for us."

"Looks like you're stuck with freaks, Peter." His assistant patted him on the shoulder.

Done with their desserts, the gaggle of medics all thanked them and Astringent smiled at them. "It's nice to see you guys again."

"Come back in a few weeks for torte and wine!" Walter called out as the last of them waved and walked out. He turned to Agent Farnsworth. "Walter's Wine and Pastries."

"Walter's Pruno and Pastries," she suggested.

He began to help her collect the specimen cups to wash out and use for later pudding-making. "And we could deliver in an ambulance."

She smiled as she tossed the specimen cups she'd gathered into the sink. "And instead of sirens we could have music like an ice cream truck."

"And we'd be prepared to save people from sugar comas!" he said, hoping she'd let him use the dish soap to blow bubbles.

"You two are so weird," Peter grumbled.


	5. Gonna Recommend You

**Chapter Title: **_Gonna Recommend You to the Spirit in the Sky_

**Chapter Genre:** _General, Morbid Humour (?)_

**Chapter Rating:** _G_

**Chapter Notes: **_Astrid starts her day like any other with dead fish, dead spokesmen, and Youtube._

**Takes Place: **_After episode 2.02_

**Quote: **_Billy Mays, 2002, Associated Press_

**Song: **_"Spirit in the Sky" as sung by Norman Greenbaum_

**Disclaimer:** _The fishstick joke is from Southpark_

* * *

"_I enjoy what I do."_

* * *

When Astrid arrived to work that Monday, she was weighed down with a few paper bags filled with snacks Walter had requested at the end of last week, and of course her purse, which was stuffed full of extra clothes—Walter's experiments seemed to be getting messier and messier. Peter was sitting over by the sinks, working on something while his father was at the computers with his back her and headphones on.

Astrid went over to Peter, hoping to steal a sip from the mug of coffee he had next to him. "Hey, Peter."

"Hey, Astrid. Do you like fish?" he asked, looking over at her.

Astrid made a face at him as she set her bags down. "Peter, if you're trying to do the fishsticks joke, you're doing it wrong."

"I'm not telling the fishsticks joke, you freak," he said with a glare. He lifted a large trout out of the deep steel sink. "Walter and I have too many to fit in the hotel minibar. I wanted to know if you wanted me to clean yours for you, but now I'm not so sure I want to share."

She rolled her eyes as she took his coffee and moved out of his reach. "Don't be a brat. I can cook some of the extras for our lunch today."

As she drank his coffee (which had too much cream and not enough sugar) she watched him continue gutting the fish, thankful that they were still fresh enough that they didn't smell. Looking back at his father, who was being exceptionally quiet this morning, Astrid asked,

"What's up with Walter?"

Peter decapitated one of the trout. "Oh, he's watching Youtube's 'A Tribute to Billy Mays'. He just found out he died."

"Was he a fan?" she asked, smiling slightly at the thought of such an odd quirk.

Peter didn't seem as amused. "Do not let him catch you laughing, Astrid. I am _not_ joking."

Finishing his coffee, she set the empty mug back down and leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. "How'd he find out?"

"Oh, he scratched up the coffee table this morning and I took out Orange Glo to buff away the marks. He started going on about how he'd always wanted to meet him and discuss improvements to Oxiclean…annnnnd I told him he was dead." He shrugged, working the knife blade through the fish.

Astrid winced. "Ouch."

Leaving Peter, she went over to Dr Bishop. Gently resting one hand on the older scientist's shoulder, and pulling back the headphones from his ears, she greeted him.

"Hey, Walter."

He spun his chair seat around so that he was facing her and she felt her heart ache slightly when she noted the fresh tear tracks on his cheeks.

"My dear, I've got terrible news. Dreadful news." He took his hands in hers and said quite somberly, "Billy Mays is dead."

"Yeah, that happened back in July," she said sympathetically.

"I haven't watched the news in a while. Peter doesn't let me watch television because he claims that I shout at the characters," he said looking at his son out of the corner of his eyes.

"You do," Peter called out.

Astrid didn't mind he was holding her hands and that his palms were sweaty. "You seem pretty torn up."

"At St. Claire's we weren't allowed to watch many things because of the triggers they contained. Cartoons, movies, the View…but we were allowed to watch infomercials. Billy's were always my favourite."

Astrid suddenly felt guilty for finding it funny—this had been one of the only lifelines to reality he had had in that horrible institution. "Oh. I'm really sorry, Walter."

"It's all right. At least there's this. Praise the internets." Walter's eyes watered again and he gave her a sad smile, his fingertips gently rubbing at her knuckles. "It's funny how life can be so fleeting. One moment you're watching an early morning Golden Girls marathon while tying your shoes and the next you find out someone you were close to is gone."

"Too true," she agreed.

"Peter and I caught fish," he said cheerfully, pointing over at his son.

"I know. I'm going to cook a few for lunch."

"Ooh! I want my trout beer battered! With tatertots and water melon!" He thought for a moment before she finally pulled her hands away. "And a grilled cheese sandwich. Dice some jalapenos into the cheese, please."

"She's not your private chef, Walter," Peter called out, but Walter had already put his headphones back on and was pressing the replay button of the video. The younger Bishop stood up and without wiping his wet and somewhat scaly hands, he pulled out his wallet and pulled out some money. "Fifty bucks enough to cover what you need?"

Astrid scrunched up her nose, really not wanting to go out for one more trip, but Olivia wasn't going to show up until later this afternoon and save for the event a dead body might arrive at the lab, it was going to be a quiet day.

"Well, I wasn't planning on cooking, but since Youtube videos and gutting trout seem to be the only things happening here, I suppose I could make a grocery run," she admitted, mentally going over her list of things to do.

"Thanks, Astrid," Peter said, handing over the money.

She accepted the money he had handed her and made her way to the door, but paused for a moment, then turned to look back at Walter who was still quietly watching the computer screen. Her hand went to her purse and after digging around one of her spare outfits, she pulled out an envelope the post had only just delivered this morning. While she'd been playing on sticking the contents of the envelope on the back of her laptop or possibly on her scooter's helmet, she figured that this was one occasion where she could just suck it up and send away for another one. The Billy Mays sticker was badass, but she hated seeing Walter so sad.

She went back over to the computers and knelt down next to him, getting his attention once more. After he pulled off his headphones, she handed him the sticker.

"I miss him, too," she whispered so that Peter wouldn't hear.

He looked at the sticker with a smile and pulled her into tight embrace. "Oh, you darling little lamb."

* * *

**A/N:** _You can get the free Billy Mays Stickers at:_

_wheresbillymays . com_


	6. You and I Must Fight to Survive

**Chapter Title:**_You and I Must Fight to Survive_

**Chapter Genre:** _Humour, Suspense_

**Chapter Rating:** _M for the usual_

**Chapter Notes:**_ What did Astrid and Walter do while Peter and Olivia were back in Iraq?_

**Takes Place: **_During 2.03_

**Song: **_"Knights of Cydonia" by Muse (as found on Guitar Heroes III)_

**Disclaimer:** _None of it's mine_

* * *

"_Come ride with me,_

_Through the veins of history,_

_I'll show you a god_

_Who falls asleep on the job._

_And how can we win,_

_When fools can be kings,_

_Don't waste your time,_

_Or time will waste you"_

* * *

Astrid watched Peter pause in packing up his back full of electronics to place his hand gently on his father's shoulder. "I know you want to come along, Walter. But it's dangerous over there."

Walter looked at her helplessly, then went to Gene's stall to snatch away a glass nazar—the Turkish ward for the evil eye—that he'd placed on the wall. "Well then at least take this! I bought it so her milk wouldn't sour, but you could use it more."

"Thank you, Walter." Peter slipped the small amulet into his pocket and then to her surprise, gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks again, Astrid."

Blushing slightly as she zipped up his electronic bags, she gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. "No problem. We'll probably stay up late watching movies and eating popcorn."

"I'm going to give you a new manicure. Yours looks dreadful," Walter said, giving her a knowing look.

Astrid rolled her eyes, but hid her hands in her pockets as she followed Peter towards the door. Lowering her voice, she gave him a worried glance.

"Be careful over there, Peter. Normally I wouldn't worry because you have Olivia, but she's not going to be able to help if you need it…"

"I know. Don't worry. We'll be fine," he said softly, giving her a sad smile. But he quickly recovered, handing her a torn piece of paper, his voice considerably more up beat. "Here's the list of movies he's not allowed to watch."

Astrid giggled as she read it. "Borat. Can you imagine him quoting that?"

"_Exactly_."

Olivia leaned in the doorway of the lab. "I don't have all day, Peter!"

"Stay safe, Olivia!" Astrid called out.

"Take care of Peter, Agent Dunham!" Walter shouted as the two left.

The door to the lab shut, leaving just Astrid and Walter alone.

"I miss them already," the scientist said sadly.

"Don't worry—we're going to pick them up from the airport tomorrow," she assured him.

"I want to finger paint," he said in an incredibly depressed tone.

She patted his shoulder gently and went over to the fridge where the homemade edible fingerpaint she'd made earlier in the week waited in specimen cups. "Sounds good."

He brought out the large roll of butcher paper they used and soon they were getting their fingers dirty. Walter began to smear around red and blue, and cleared his throat.

"So Agent Farnsworth, if you don't think it too forward of me, I was wondering if you wanted to stay the night."

She let her fingers make green swirls across the paper. "That was already the plan, Walter. Peter doesn't trust you on your own."

"No, I meant we could have a sleepover. _Here_."

Astrid's eyes widened. "In the lab?"

He nodded, looking hopeful. "Yes. We already have everything we want—food, candy, sugar, TV, and you can have the cot if you want."

"Where would you sleep?"

"In the hay."

She thought for a moment and shrugged. "Well, if you're sure you want to. I suppose we could."

Walter clapped his hands together, splattering them with red and blue fingerpaint. "Wonderful!"

* * *

"This one goes out to the young lady who's supported everything I've ever done here in this lab," Walter declared as he held the game's guitar shaped controller and then glanced back over his shoulder. "Here's to you, Gene. You look beautiful this evening!"

His assistant, who was standing on the freshly cleaned autopsy table behind him in her pyjamas, held her own guitar controller, pressing the buttons absentmindedly as she watched him begin to play; Walter smiled smugly as he saw her freshly painted fingernails—he hadn't smudged a single one!

They'd made a quick run back to her apartment after they ordered the pizza for dinner to pick up and extra set of clothes for her along with pillows and extra blankets; Walter had noticed the strange guitar shaped devices next to her TV and upon enquiring, he was told it was a video game. Naturally, he demanded she bring it back to the lab with them and while it certainly was no Pong, it was a thrilling game.

"Grande finale!" he shouted, lifting the guitar controller above his head to smash down it down on the floor for extra points.

"Walter, stop! You're going to bust my game!" she cried out, grabbing onto the false guitar to prevent him from smashing it to bits.

He turned around, glancing up at her. "You're just jealous at how well I've taken to it."

"That's not true at all. It's nice to have someone to play with. But you need to be careful."

"Just pick another song," he said with a sigh, wishing it was still his turn, though he quickly warned her, "I hate Barracuda!"

"Me, too." Suddenly she giggled as she highlighted 'Welcome to the Jungle'. "Oh man. I have to pick that one—I have a whole dance for it!"

"What kind of dance? A jungle dance?"

"No. Mostly a ripoff of ACDC's exaggerated guitar moves and Molly Ringwald's footwork in 'Breakfast Club'." She demonstrated by wiggling her hips a bit, her bare feet squeaking on the metal surface of the autopsy table.

Walter pretended to strum a sweet riff and addressed the young agent by her player name. "Let's rock this town, LabBunny."

"You're on, LabDad1," she replied with a wink.

* * *

Astrid was surprised at how comfortable her makeshift bed was; one of the cold chambers that they stored bodies in had broken, so she pulled out the large tray and moved the cot's mattress onto it. However comfortable the bed was, she was still a light sleeper and the moment the scratching noise across the lab started, she woke up.

'_Rats?'_ she wondered, but it sounded like metal on metal—_'The door!'_ she realised. _'Someone's trying to open the door!'_

She found the small handgun she'd been assigned and quickly left her bed to hurry over to Gene's stall where Walter was sleeping.

"Walter!" she hissed.

Walter rolled over in the hay, his eyes opening just slight enough that she could see a slit of pupil. His voice was thick and groggy as he pulled his blanket around him tighter.

"Young lady, I refuse to let you take advantage of me, no matter how fetching you look in your scrubs—"

She held a finger to her lips to silence him, whispering. "Walter, I think someone's trying to break into the lab."

His eyes widened. "What?"

"Listen!" They both held their breathes to listen to the door knob rattling slightly. "Get under the hay and don't come out until I say it's safe, okay?"

He nodded fervently, quickly burrowing down into the long golden stalks as she made her way over to door. She could now see someone's silhouette on the opposite side of the frosted glass, their head bowed as the scratching at the door handle continued. Shit, whoever it was picking the lock!

Astrid moved across the floor silently, her bare feet on the cold concrete, cold gun in her bare hands. She'd never shot anyone before but now that she was seeing someone trying to break in, the adrenaline running through her veins making her heart race, and she knew she was ready for anything.

Hiding in the shadows by the coat tree, the door finally opened and she pressed her gun against the intruder's temple—

"Charlie!" she exclaimed, quickly lowering her weapon.

He smiled at her, looking a little surprised. "Oh, hello. What are you still doing here?"

"I'm staying the night to watch Walter." Her hand went up to her chest and she gave a nervous laugh. "You scared me! Is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine." He glanced around the quiet laboratory. "Where are you sleeping?"

She gestured her hand towards the southern wall.

"On one of the cold chamber tables. It's broken and I just pulled it out all the way and put the cot mattress…" Astrid looked back at him, her eyes narrowed slightly as she realised how baffling the whole situation was. "What are you doing here? It's almost three."

"I had a weird dream that the bald guy Olivia calls the Observer was here and I came to check," he said casually.

She raised an eyebrow. "You dreamed about it?"

He chuckled. "Pretty silly, huh?"

"I didn't realize you two were holding down the fort." Charlie's eye scanned the lab before returning to hers and he gave her a Cheshire grin. "Astrid, do you think we could keep this secret? I don't want Olivia worried."

She nodded. "Sure, sure."

Charlie slowly backed out the door, winking. "I'll bring some doughnuts around in the morning."

"None of those jelly filled maple bars. Those are worse than tripe," Walter called out from the depths of the hay.

"He likes the ones with confectioners' sugar."

Charlie's broad smile seemed so different as he began to walk down the hallway. "Sleep tight."

"Sweet dreams," she called out, waving.

* * *

Morning arrived much quicker than she expected. Walter was dressed and trying to figure out how to turn her Wii on, muttering darkly under his breath. Astrid yawned and stretched, allowing herself to roll off the edge of the cold chamber bed. Going over to the Wii, she turned it on for him and as he sang her praises of allowing him to play along to 90s New Wave, she took her change of clothes to spruce up.

Just as she exited the lab's bathroom, fully dressed and ready for the day, Charlie arrived with a big pink bakery box in his hands.

"Morning! Everyone awake?"

"Good morning, Charlie!" she called out amicably.

"Doughnuts, doughnuts!" Walter sang, quickly setting the guitar controller down.

"Go wash your hands," she instructed, giving him her '_no nonsense_' look.

"Damn," he grumbled, heading over to the deep sinks.

Astrid happily carried the pink box of baked goods over towards the table with the comfortable chairs. In her glee, she didn't notice the bundle of cords lying across the floor.

"Oh!" she cried out as she tripped, the box of doughnuts flying through the air.

Quickly, Charlie began to pick them up with a paper towel he'd snatched off the counter next to them. "I'm sure they're still good to eat—"

She took the doughnuts out of his hands and tossed them into the hazardous waste bin. "No. One of the lab rules is 'no five second rule'. After all the shit that gets dropped on the floor, I don't want anyone to get sick, 'specially him."

Charlie seemed to be silently seething and Astrid quickly hurried over to her purse, pulling out a five and one, which she brought back to him; she didn't miss his balled fists.

"Sorry. We really appreciate it, though."

Charlie gave her a strained smile. "_Of course_."

* * *

**A/N:** _What kind of sneaky shit was not!Charlie up to?_

_Homemade fingerpaint can be done by adding Jello to boiling water, which you mix until it gets gooey. And Faust, it was an homage to you ;)_


	7. This Strange Effect

**Chapter Title: **_This Strange Effect_

**Chapter Genre:** _General_

**Chapter Rating:** _PG-13_

**Chapter Notes: **_Did anyone else notice the flowers in episode 2.01 when Astrid was mixing up the custard shells right as Junior Agent Jessup came in? I did and this chapter was inspired by them._

**Takes Place:**_ During episode 2.01_

**Song:**_ "This Strange Effect" as sung by Hooverphonic_

**Disclaimer:** _No, I don't own Fringe. Surprised? ;)_

* * *

"_You've got this strange effect on me,_

_And I like it."_

* * *

Sometimes Walter wasn't sure what to think about the relationship he had with Aspirin. He suspected it wasn't what was considered usual and he had no idea how she felt about it, but he knew he kind of liked it. Sometimes.

Sometimes he found himself incredibly distracted as she swayed her hips to the records he played and sometimes he found himself trying to accidentally brush his fingers against hers when they were removing the innards from cadavers. But all too often he had to focus on other things like alternate universes, pyrokenesis, and suspended information and his curiosity towards her would have to be put on hold.

This morning inside the Piggly Wiggly, the silliest named grocery store he'd ever been to, he found himself drawn to the most delightfully red gerbera daisies in a stand at the floral booth. Suddenly inspired, he ran with their shopping cart over to the collection of flowers, his nose filling with the many scents of roses, potted herbs and floral preservatives.

"I'll take this one and that one!" he said as he pulled the daisies out of the florist's bucket.

The florist behind the counter accepted them with a smile and asked, "What else?"

"Just those two. They're the nicest," he said, running his fingertips across the smooth petals.

The florist frowned. "Sir, you have to buy a full bouquet."

"I'll pay for a full bouquet, but I only want these two flowers," Walter said waving her off as he dropped a ten-dollar bill on her counter.

As they walked away, Peter had a sly smile on his face. "Who are the flowers for, Walter? Astrid?"

"Be quiet. You should know that flowers and other nice gifts soothe the fiery spirit within a female," Walter said hotly, but "I'm going to make you custard for your birthday!"

"Walter, come on. I don't need you to make me anything."

* * *

"Hello, Agent Farnsworth," Walter greeted meekly.

Peter had dropped him off at the lab, saying he needed to go take care of 'some things'; Walter suspected 'some things' had to do with the vegetable Olivia.

Asterisk, whom had been called and told the terrible news of the accident, gave him a sad smile as he walked into the lab. "Good morning."

He looked at the grocery bags that she had brought and he peeked inside each one—it appeared she had bought all the supplies he'd left behind at the Piggly Wiggly in the rush to get to the hospital. He still had the flowers, though.

"I brought you something," he mumbled, holding the flowers out.

"Flowers?" she asked in quiet surprise, but one of her hands goes up to touch his shoulder as his eyes begin to water again. "Walter, are you all right?"

"Yes," he says with a sniffle, but he can't hold back his tears. "No."

"Come here," she murmured, holding her arms open.

"There was nothing I could do," he said softly, crying into her small shoulder. "I'm a terrible doctor."

"No you're not. A coma is a complicated thing," she soothed, patting him on the shoulder.

"But I'm so good with complicated things…"

* * *

Once Peter and the junior agent left—not his assistant but the other young lady—Walter turned to Astringent and pointed his Red Vine angrily at her.

"You have no right to smack my hand away when I want to do a taste test!" he insisted in a flustered tone.

She was still mixing the bowl of custard, but managed to jut out one of her hips in a cocky attitude. "Walter, your hands were covered in cadaver blood."

Pointing said bloody hands at one of the metal tables that today had been deemed as her workstation, he shouted. "I bought you flowers!"

She glanced at the red daisies sitting in a beaker and he caught the slight flush in her cheeks before she turned back to him. "And I appreciate it! But it's not an excuse to stick your dirty fingers in this custard!"

"But I wanted a taste," he insisted miserably.

She sighed and to his surprise, she ran one of her fingers along the inside of the bowl, collecting a large dollop of the custard. She held her finger out to him and he hesitated for only the slightest second before quickly sucking it off her finger.

"Thank you!" he sang as he skipped away.

Sometimes Walter wasn't sure what to think about the relationship he had with Aspirin. But only sometimes.

* * *


	8. Untitled

**Chapter Title: (Untitled)**

**Chapter Genre:** _Humour, General_

**Chapter Rating:** _PG-13_

**Chapter Notes: **_I'm pretty sure I messed up the time line on this one, but I really wanted to write about Kashner :)_

**Takes Place: **_During 2.05_

**Song: (Untitled)**

**Disclaimer:** _not mine_

* * *

"So why are we doing this again?" Walter asked as he watched her hand movements, trying to do them as well.

"I've made a goal of teaching you one bad habit for every day Peter dumps you on me," she grumbled, but quickly added. "Not that I don't like hanging out with you."

"Completely understood." Walter moved in time to the music. "Could you repeat the name for me? Only once more and it shall be locked in the little grey cells forever!"

"The Macarena," she said once more. "And my name is Astrid."

"I want to hula-hoop," he said as he shook his hips to the obnoxious song.

"We can hula-hoop next," she promised.

Astrid smiled smugly, knowing that Walter was going to drive Peter up the wall with his dance—and no doubt the song, too—and wondered what he was going to do in retaliation. Once the moves were well established, they found the stack of cheapo hula-hoops in the storage room; sometimes when they were bored and they were hitting dead ends, they'd have hula-hooping competitions to give their brains a rest—Astrid's current record was three hula-hoops for seven and half minutes.

Walter cheered her on. "Go! Go! Go! Go—oh, hello!"

Astrid spun around and felt the heat rise in her cheeks as she let the hula-hoops clatter to the ground. "Hello, Agent Kashner."

"Ms Farnsworth." His eyes left hers and he corrected himself. "_Agent_ Farnsworth."

"Did you forget something?" she asked, kicking her hula-hoops under the nearby desk.

"Uh, no." He looked nervous and Astrid wondered if it had more to do than just being back in the lab. "My flight isn't until tomorrow morning, so I'm stuck here tonight."

"That sucks."

His cheeks slightly flushed. "I was wondering if I could take you to dinner.

Walter clapped his hands together in delight. "Oh, wonderful! I was in the mood for pizza! What time did you want to pick us up? I like Giovanni's down by the bowling alley."

"Oh, I, uh," Kashner stuttered.

Thankfully the sound of her cellphone saved her from having to say anything and she ran over to answer her phone while Walter stopped the record playing Delftones.

"Bishops' House of Dorks, this is Astrid," she said, quickly.

Peter's cheerful voice was on the other end. "Ah, Queen of the Dorks—just who I was looking for. How's Walter?"

"Misbehaving. How's Olivia?" she asked.

He smirked. "Distant."

"How's Seattle? Seen the sun yet?" she teased.

"Nope! I was just calling to tell you that you can take my room tonight—I haven't slept in the bed yet and there should be new sheets sitting on the mattress."

She avoided looking in the general direction of Kashner and Walter. "Mmmkay."

"Okay, call me tonight when you get him to bed."

She laughed. "Of course! Have fun."

"You know me!" he joked.

Astrid put the phone back in her purse, then turned to face the two men.

"It was Peter. He said hello," she said as casually as she could.

Walter had his fingers crossed as he pleaded, "_Please_ say Giovanni's, Agent Farnsworth. It's cheap and tasty."

Astrid shyly met Kashner's eyes. "Giovanni's will be fine."

"Okay," he said, his smile definitely giving away the fact that he wasn't happy. "Seven o'clock fine?"

She nodded. "That'd be great. We'll meet you out front."

* * *

Agent Kashner had promptly picked Walter and Astrid up from the lab at seven in one of the FBIs cars and after a surprisingly calm dinner with Dr Bishop only acting up twice, he drove them back to the Bishops' new residence, even stopping to let Walter buy a box of doughnuts at an all night doughnut shop.

Walter seemed happy to have his treats and as he got out of the car, Kashner seemed happy to see him go. "Have a nice night, Dr Bishop."

"Thank you, Agent Krycheck," the scientist said amicably.

"Kashner," he corrected.

Ever the gentleman, Walter opened up her car door for her. "My dear."

Kashner looked surprised. "What—"

"She's staying with me tonight," Walter said, offering his hand as she stepped up on the curb.

"Go ahead. I'll be in in a sec," she said, pointing to the door.

Now that they had some privacy, Astrid leaned against the doorway, not missing Kashner's crestfallen face. "So…"

"Peter doesn't like him to be alone. He wanders and gets lonely, so I'm acting as the babysitter," she explained.

Kashner nodded. "Ah."

Astrid smiled at him as she nervously adjusted her purse strap. "Thank you for dinner. It was really nice."

He returned the smile. "No problem. Maybe next time I'm in the area it can be just us."

"Maybe," she said playfully.

They both glanced back at Walter, who was standing at the front door, staring at them. Kashner's voice brought her "So you're not..."

"What? No!" she said, her eyes wide.

He shrugged. "It's just you seem so close to him. Like there's something going on."

"Walter—" she corrected herself, "Dr Bishop is married to his work. He's only interested in science and sugar—"

"Come along, sweet thing! These doughnuts aren't going to eat themselves!" Walter called out.

"I see," he said, not looking convinced at all. "Well, I'll see you soon."

"That would be great." She smiled kindly. "Take care, Agent Kashner."

He put his hand on hers. "Take care, Astrid."

Astrid watched him pull away and once he was off the block, she joined Walter.

"He wanted to have the dinner alone with you," Walter said smugly as he removed his coat, tossing it on his bed.

She sat down on the leather couch, raising her brow. "I _know_."

Bringing the box of doughnuts over with him, he sat down on the couch next to her. "I thought I should chaperone. He could have tried drugging you."

She gave him a look. "Like _you_ did to him?"

He scowled but opened the box and offered, "Dusted or jelly, my dear?"

"Jelly," she said and took one out.

Walter took a dusted and began to noisily scarf it down. "We have to be more careful who we associate with, Asparagus. We're at war."

"I know." Astrid took a big bite of her doughnut and wiped some of the strawberry jelly from her cheek. "He thought you and I were…"

Walter gave her a confectioners' sugar grin. "What did you tell him?"

Astrid blushed and smiled back. "I told him no! I'm just here to make sure you don't get into any trouble."

"Hah! I don't need to be alone to cause trouble!" Walter proclaimed proudly.

"I _know_ that." She finished her doughnut and informed him, "I'm going to be sleeping in Peter's room tonight."

"So you'd rather say you were in Peter's bed than mine?" he asked playfully.

"Your bed's going to have you in it. Also, I don't want to sleep thirteen steps away from the fridge," she said pointedly as she licked her sticky fingers off.

"Thirteen steps away not close enough for you?"

She frowned at him. "Walter, we need to go to bed—_separately_."

He pulled the box of doughnuts away from her and said snippily, "I'll see you in the morning."

"In the morning."

As she walked back to Peter's room, she heard something sail through the air and she yelped as it connected with her back. Spinning around, she saw Walter had thrown an empty tissue box at her and was grinning broadly at her. However, once she picked it up, he sprinted for the shelter of his bed and let out a loud and very feminine scream as she hurled the box at him. She laughed and went running off to Peter's room, shutting the door and locking it behind her as she heard something cardboard clatter against it.

Peter's bedroom appeared to be the master bedroom, so she was able to take a relaxing hot shower in private; she'd been awake for almost 48 hours and while she could still function on little sleep, she was exhausted and tense, as almost every day at the lab ended. Bed dressed and dressed for bed, Astrid flopped down onto the mattress and pressed the speed dial for Peter's cellphone.

"Hey Peter. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" she asked when he picked up.

She could tell from his tone that he was happy she'd called. "Nope. How's Walter?"

"Finishing off some doughnuts. Agent Kashner took us out for pizza at Giovanni's," she said, looking at her cuticles—she could really do for a manicure.

"Oh, that's nice of him."

Walter's concerns about who exactly they could actually trust echoed in her head. "Yeah."

"What's up?" Peter asked.

"Nothing, nothing. Just thinking," she said quickly.

"Ah. Well, you know you can talk to me about anything, right? It's nice listening to people with normal problems," he joked

Astrid didn't feel much like laughing, though. "Yeah. Well, I don't want to keep you up. I'll talk with you tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah! You can pick Dunham and I up at the airport," he suggested.

"See you tomorrow then," she said softly.

She could just tell from the tone of his voice that he was smiling. "Later, Astrid."

* * *

**A/N:** _Uhg, sorry you guys. I'm not my usual self lately and I couldn't pick a song for this chapter. Make a suggestion if you want._


	9. It's Like I've Been Awakened

**Chapter Title: **_It's Like I've Been Awakened_

**Chapter Genre:** _Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship_

**Chapter Rating:** _PG_

**Chapter Notes: **_Long time, no see ;)_

**Takes Place: **_At the end of Snakehead_

**Song:**_ "Halo" by Beyonce_

**Disclaimer:** _not mine!_

* * *

_"Everywhere I'm looking now  
I'm surrounded by your embrace  
Baby I can see your halo  
You know you're my saving grace"_

* * *

It took thirty-two minutes and twelve seconds for Astrid to officially confirm she didn't have a loose tooth—it was just sensitive from where she'd been hit in the face. Her nose was definitely broken however and she had a very mild concussion, as well as an incredibly bruised stomach from where those Triads had worked her over. She really wanted to cry and go home and get cleaned up and go to bed…

But Astrid was a good agent, always a team player. There were bigger things than the fact she was in pain and scared—she had no right to complain about her own problems to Olivia and Peter when there were things to do. That was one of the reasons anything got done in the lab—she simply pushed her emotions, stress, and frustration down to focus on mindless tasks such as keeping inventory of supplies, scouring and sanitizing every surface that got used, keeping everything neat and tidy. If she could control what was going on in the lab then she could certainly control what was going on inside her mind.

So it was _**very**_ hard for her emotionally to let Walter see she hadn't gotten anything back to normal as she stood in the centre of the lab, looking around her. She'd had, like, three hours to get this pace ready, for Christ's sake!

It felt nice to just rest her forehead against his as they stood close.

"Oh hey, don't cry," she murmured, rubbing the back of his head reassuringly.

"You're _bleeding_." His voice sounded just devastated.

"Walter…" She wanted to lie and say she was fine, but she couldn't. Walter would rather have brutal honesty than a lie. "They hurt me pretty bad."

His lower lip trembled further and his hand cupped her face, his thumb tracing over unfortunately tender skin. A hard knot formed in her throat.

"But I'm okay now. And I'll be sore tomorrow and probably the next few days as well, but I'm alive. And safe. And okay." She started to pull away, a shaky smile on her lips. "Hold on and let me get you a tissue for your boogers."

Walter, however didn't seem to think he needed to clean up any mucus and he pulled her into a tight hug, crushing her throbbing ribs. She couldn't help but return the hug, so happy to be close to someone who cared about her right then and there.

"I missed you, too," she said softly. She pulled her head back to look him in the eyes. "And you know what? I wasn't worried about me. I was worried about you."

He wiped away the thick tears running down his cheeks. "I was being so foolish! Like a magpie that sees some shiny bauble, I allowed myself to be drawn away."

"I'm just glad you're okay." Her eyes watered once more and she buried her face into his neck. "God, I'm so glad you're okay."


End file.
